Roomies
by 30DaysAndNights
Summary: The first time House and Chase share a bed


**Roomies (by LickMyThermometer)**

By the time Chase was finished parking the car and locking up and hiding anything even remotely valuable under the seats, House was already inside, deep in conversation with the motel clerk. The man looked perplexed and sort of nervous… par for the course for anybody dealing with House. Chase sighed. "What's the problem?"

House pointed with his cane. "_He _tells me there aren't rooms available."

"You're sold out?" Chase tried not to sound incredulous.

The man stuttered, "Uh, no, but- I mean..."

"Good. Because we need two rooms. Now."

After a wary glance in House's direction, the clerk said: "There's only one."

So House took over again, swooping in and leaning down to terrorize him from up close. "Well, don't you have… like, a presidential suite or something that you reserve for emergencies?" House banged his cane down on the counter. "I'm crippled, see? That's an emergency."

Chase sighed and looked around. "House, somehow I doubt that the Sea Bree-e Motel has a presidential suite laying around that they-"

"Sea _Breeze_," the clerk snapped. "The sign's just broken."

Chase made eyebrows at House, and rested his case.

House let out a long breath. "Fine. We'll make do, as long as it's got two beds in it."

"Er… it doesn't."

"Ohh…kay," House drawled. "Bed and a couch, final offer."

"Mm-nn. One bed, no couch, and our rollaway is broken. Take it or leave it. Sorry."

While House complained, Chase got out a credit card and reserved the room. It was two AM, and unless they wanted to fall asleep at the wheel and kill themselves, Sea Bree-e Motel it was.

"I'm never driving to a conference with you again," House declared as he clomped down the hallway. Broken fluorescent lights buzzed and clicked overhead, making him look quite a lot like Frankenstein.

"Then you shouldn't have induced mass hysteria on an airplane," Chase lectured wearily, "And maybe Cuddy would still be letting you fly. 114. This is us."

They unlocked the door, and House pushed it open with his cane. "Oh God."

Chase tried the lightswitch, but it didn't work. He stepped carefully over to the night table and turned on the lamp, flooding the room in dull yellow light. "Home sweet home."

"This is… unspeakable."

"Do you want to leave?"

Nobody in their right mind would _not_ want to leave, but it seemed House would prefer to argue. "No - we already paid for this dump, we're staying. Or actually, _you _paid. And I'm not paying you back."

Chase sighed. He'd get reimbursed anyway, and fighting would do nothing except make a bad night worse. "Fine, okay? Okay. Now, which do you think is less dirty - the bedspread or the sheets?"

"Neither," House said decisively. "They wash the towels most often."

Probably true. "So we cover the bed... in towels?"

"Yes. Go. Do. In the meantime I'll consume enough Vicodin to dull the pain of being here, and then - assuming I don't die of an overdose - we just lie down and wait for the morning."

Chase did as he was told and they lay down fully clothed, on towels, freezing but unwilling to touch the ratty foam blankets. Eventually they dropped off to sleep.

Chase slept badly, shivering and trying to curl up into as tight a ball as possible to stay warm. He woke up two or three times to re-organize himself, pulling his arms into his shirt and putting his shoes back on.

And then he woke up again, and was warm. He snuggled into the warm and went back to sleep.

But a second later his eyes flew open. _Wait a second_. He was in a disgusting motel room, sharing a bed with _House_. So either someone very handsy had broken in to cuddle with him, or…

Oh, dear.

He had to extricate himself… but it wasn't going to be easy, not when they were spooning with House glued to his back and House's arm having somehow insinuated itself underneath his.

First things first: he let go of House's hand and scooted forward a few inches so that his ass was no longer pressing against House's crotch. That was a start.

Next, he was going to have to clear that arm out of the way and roll to safety. _Carefully, though, _he told himself. _Because if House wakes up, this is somehow going to be __**my **__fault and I'll never hear the end of it._

Moving very slowly, he got himself loose and just rolled right off the bed onto the disgusting floor. He waited there a moment, checking to see that the commotion hadn't woken his bedmate, and then crept off into the bathroom.

Once he was in there and the door locked, he put the light on and stared at himself in the cloudy mirror. "My God, that would've been awkward," he whispered aloud. "Okay. Let's wait a second til he's all the way back asleep, then go back to the other side of the bed."

He turned the light off first and snuck back in. House was still sleeping, but not soundly. "No," he was mumbling as he tossed uncomfortably. "D'you _hear _that, no come _on_… fuck you…"

Chase decided to ignore it and lay down. "No! Cmon I… wait I don't see…" As the minutes ticked away, House continued to mumble things like "no" and "I hear them!" in panic, while Chase stared at the ceiling and pretended to be somewhere else. Finally things were silent for maybe half a minute and Chase figured it was all over… until House gasped and said clearly: "_Seriously Cuddy I can't find the rake_!"

The rake? "Okay, that's enough!" Chase rolled towards him and shook him. "House. _House_. It's me - Chase. You're having a nightmare. Wake up, will you? House?"

Finally his eyes opened and he sat partway up. "What?" he said thickly, looking all around in almost comic terror. "What's going on?"

"Nothing. It's Chase. You're dreaming," he said matter-of-factly. "Go back to sleep, okay?"

"Okay." He let out a slow breath and relaxed. "I was dreaming. What was I dreaming about?"

"How the hell should I know? Something about a rake? You were telling Cuddy you couldn't find the rake…"

Silence. "Oh. Okay, yeah. There were wolves outside," he mumbled. "I was supposed to get… I don't know, there was something in Wilson's car in the parking lot, and they wouldn't let me back in, but I said I couldn't go get it because of the wolves. They said I had to, Wilson said _you'll be fine, there's a rake right there_, I guess I was supposed to… I don't know, hit the wolves with it? Would that even work? But anyway I couldn't find it. And the door was locked."

Chase had never in his life been so glad to _not _be House. "Uh… that sounds like a really bad dream," he soothed after a moment. He figured it was all right –House was so out of it he probably had no idea where he was yet anyhow. "You're okay now, though. So just go to sleep, okay?"

"Yeah."

Chase shivered in silence for a while, and thought perhaps House had fallen asleep… until House huffed impatiently and said, sounding much more lucid: "It's fucking freezing in here. Come back where you were."

"Uh…"

"Come on. I'm not a priest. It's fine. Just cmere. "

So Chase rolled onto his side and scooted over so that they were lying back to back. Awkward as it was, the warm was nice and he felt better. "Night, House."

"Mmn."

Soon House was snoring softly, and Chase was staring at the wall, jealous. It was _freezing_, but if he kept pressing harder against House in an effort to find more heat, he was going to end up pushing him right out of bed.

Finally he figured the hell with it, and just rolled over to hold House from behind. It was a little odd of a fit given how tall the man was compared to most of Chase's girlfriends, but it was better than the cold and he grew comfortable almost immediately, and fell asleep.

What woke him up later was a headbutt to the face. "Ah- ow! Jesus!" he gasped, jerking away and scrambling to sit up. "What was that for?"

House was rolling over to glare at him. "For molesting me, and for smelling good. Either of which, on its own, I could forgive... but in combination..."

"Jesus," Chase complained again, holding his nose even though it hadn't really hurt. "You _told_ me to lie next to you!"

"Right." Loud sigh. "This is probably the least fun I've had in bed with an attractive person under the age of sixty, ever."

"Well, I'm _sorry_!"

"You _could_ just be happy that I called you attractive…"

"Oh, of course. Silly me." Chase listened while House fell asleep again, and glared at his back. Then he scooted over and hugged him again, because first he deserved it, the ass… and second, it really was warmer.

The next time he woke it was morning, and he w as somehow on his back, with House draped over him muttering sleepy nonsense like _Just do it, I read the directions…_

He fought free and sat up, trying like hell to resent the miserable night and not to think _House _and _endearing _in the same sentence. "Wake up," he called. "I'm going to go check out, okay? You get up and come on out when you're ready. Okay? _Okay_?"

"Gwway," House groaned, but was alert enough to cover his head with a towel rather than the vile pillows. Chase figured that was good enough and left.

When he stopped by the front desk, there was a young, reasonably pretty girl working there. He handed over the key and said, "No offense, but this is the worst motel I've ever seen. There are dumpsters I'd rather sleep in."

She only giggled and shrugged, apologetic. "Sometimes I sort of feel like it's about to go out of business," she confessed, after looking both ways.

"The sooner the better. How in God's name did you sell out last night?"

She gave him a strange look. "Last night? We had like a dozen rooms open. Why'd you think we were sold out?"

Just then, House came stomping down the hall, glaring left and right and declaring that he was _never _driving to another conference with Chase ever, _ever _again.

Chase blinked. Decided he would think about it later. "Uh. No reason."

* * *

The End.

House needs to work on his flirting skills. I'd meant this to be a slashy story, but he had too many bad dreams and his game was just not up to scratch and Chase got away. Oh, well. Next time...


End file.
